Happy Hogmanay
by Hardly Here
Summary: Scottish jokes abound as Drew McIntyre attempts to get... closer to a certain Montel Vontavious Porter. Secret Santa 2009 fic for MoRaine25! Rated for swearing


**Happy Hogmanay, a Secret Santa fic for ****MoRaine25!**

**It is **_**so freaking hard **_**to write about people I don't usually pay much attention to. Erm... hope you enjoy this muchly? Merry Christmas to you and hope you enjoy!**

**Rated M for language and mention of sex-ness.**

_"It is ordinary among some Plebians in the South of Scotland, to go about from door to door upon New Year`s Eve, crying Hagmane." _  
_-Scotch Presbyterian Eloquence, 1693._

"Never have I ever... been to Scotland." Adam snickered drunkenly as Drew McIntyre was forced to take a swig of whatever it was he was drinking. Jericho had suggested the game as a lead in to the new year, and the rest of them had agreed, having nothing better to do at the present. Mr McMahon had hired out a bar for the roster's New Years celebrations, and while the booze was good, the "rap-metal B.S." (as Jericho had so eloquently put it) that blared from the speakers had put a bit of a damper on the proceedings. Hence the drinking game.

"Never have I ever... been personally recommended by Mr McMahon himself." Giggled Shawn, watching Drew take another swig from his bottle.

"Never have I ever... worn a kilt." Hunter had caught on to what the others were doing and was eager to join in.

"Oh fer fuck's sake..." Drew brought the bottle to his lips again. However, his irritation was ignored in favour of a sudden burst of mirth from the two members of DX, who had spontaneously exploded with laughter.

"H-h-hunt... what's worn under the kilt?" choked Shawn, clutching at his side

"NOTHING! IT'S ALL IN PERFECT WORKING ORDER!" roared Hunter, and the two of them started again, collapsing on top of one another and banging on the table.

Drew shifted uncomfortably from his place between Hunter and MVP, keeping his eyes on DX to avoid the gaze of the man of the other side of him. Drew hoped that the game would finish soon. The liquor was beginning to go to his head and honestly, he didn't think that he could take much more of just... sitting next to the guy. Every time he shifted and their knees brushed under the table... it sent a strange tingling sensation up and down his spine. And MVP was a _man. _What. The fuck. Drew shook himself.

_Wow. Have to appear less gay. Ummm..._

"Never have I ever... fucked a guy," he said, a little too quickly. He smiled his signature snide half-smile, but it disappeared quickly when every single person on the entire table took a long gulp of their drink.

"What... seriously?"

MVP nodded at him and winked.

"Never have I ever... bottomed." He settled back in his chair with a satisfied grin, proud gaze watching Shawn, John Morrison and Evan Bourne take a drink. The Miz was about to say his piece, when Adam cleared his throat, staring pointedly at Jericho.

"Oh my God," laughed Shawn, already sprawled across his partner's lap. Jericho, red-faced all of a sudden, took a tiny sip, then set the bottle back down quickly.

"Oh look at that. Two minutes to go. Let's go watch the fireworks on the telly." Jericho stumbled out of his seat, knocking the numerous empty bottles askew.

"Aw, don't be like that" – Adam hurried after him, quickly followed by DX (Hunter! Fireworks! Eeee!)

"C'mon babe, let's go have some fireworks of our own," purred Miz, leading Morrison out, leaving Drew, Evan, and MVP.

"This is so exciting!" Babbled Evan "I love new years. One time I blinked, and I missed the changeover, but it was okay, 'cos I was on a flight, so I crossed time zones which meant I go to have new years twice!"

"That's great," sighed Drew, looking at his watch. One minute.

_Damn this is awkward. Why won't the kid leave us alone?_

_Because you'd just make it more awkward._

_We wouldn't need to talk. You know, just... sit... together._

_I'm fairly sure the man who has never bottomed is going to love just sitting with you._

_Shut up._

Ten, nine, eight, seven...

"Oooh, I'm going closer to the TV so I can see better!" Evan bounced away, launching himself expertly off his chair and over the table.

Six, five, four,

_Do it_

Three

_No way._

Two

_You'll regret it._

One.

_He'll never speak to you again._

Zero.

"Fuck it." Drew turned swiftly around and pressed his mouth onto the man sitting next to him. He fully expected him to pull away, but MVP was kind of... _leaning in_ to the kiss. Wow.

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What am I doing. Montel Vontavious Porter is a man._

Drew came to his senses, pulling away (the other man had just slipped a hand around his waist) and knocking his chair over in the process.

"I'm sorry –"

In a moment he was out the door.

_He'll never speak to you again._

_GOOD._

***

Drew was wakened the next morning (afternoon) by random tapping noises outside his hotel room window. He had slumped into bed the night, too depressed to care about undressing. He staggered painfully to the windows and tore open the curtains. This he regretted immediately, the afternoon sun causing a sudden painful throbbing in his head.

"HO-GEMMY" Roared someone from below.

_What?_

"HOG-MENNA!"

_Who is that?_

"What on earth are you on about?" called Drew thickly, bringing his hand up to shade his eyes from the sun.

"Give 'us a hand here! What's the word?"

"MVP?"

The man was indeed standing on the porch below his, waving madly. In his hand were a bunch of small stones, which Drew presumed had been the cause of the tapping noises.

"It's Alvin! What's the word?"

"Uhhh... Hogmanay?"

"THAT'S THE ONE! Can I come up?"

_OHMYGODYES_

"Uhhh, I don't know... why?"

The other man winked.

"You know why. I want to see what's under that kilt of yours."

**Joke is by Spike Milligan and not me, sadly. It's one of my favourites ^_^**


End file.
